


From Whence Wayward Westerlies Blow

by Meddalarksen



Series: 30 AU Challenge - Natasha [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Gen, Maria Sharon and Dottie show up too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen
Summary: Not all ships hold superstitious people willing to throw others to the sea in order to solve their problems, but those that do often come to ruin following the death of their sacrifice. For the sacrifice lies below the waters, given new life among other castoffs.





	From Whence Wayward Westerlies Blow

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of how they came to be what they are comes from this post: http://screaming-till-im-numb.tumblr.com/post/73371192927/i-want-someone-to-write-a-book-where-mermaids-are though I admit I took some liberties with it being more than women.

Natasha remembered very little from her time above the ocean. She remembered trying to sail away on a ship and she remembered being found out, but she remembered nothing more of her time above. She had been below for so long, the songs that were sung around her, the whispers of the kelp as it stretched toward the distant sunlight. There was always a part of her mind that believed she shouldn’t be able to breathe down below but it never stopped her from doing just that. She was fairly certain she had always spent much of her lives doing things she shouldn’t have been able to do.

She opened her eyes from where she had stretched herself on a rock just under the surface and let the sun warm her as it warmed the water around her. There was an echo of the song that had called her to full attention again and she rolled off the rock, her black tail appearing above the waves for a moment as she dove, swimming further from the empty island and its shallow rocks.

She reached the place where her sisters swam, singing under the waves, beneath the shadow of a ship that seemed still. “What’s happening above?”

“We’re not certain,” her sister, Sharon, with pale hair held up by fishbones and seaweed answered. “The ship has not moved but a little in two days. We have tried to sing them to the rocks but it will not move.”

“There’s no wind and the currents up here are gentle,” that was Maria, who always cut her dark hair short with the whalebone knife she kept along her arm.

“Men are a superstitious lot,” Natasha said, earning knowing nods from the others nearby.

“We’ll probably have another in our number before the sun rises tomorrow,” Peggy said, her hair caught up with a torn net from a fisherman’s boat. “We’ll take turns watching for her.”

“I’ll stay during the darkest hours with just the stars,” Natasha said and Peggy nodded.

“Agreed. Maria, til sunset, and I’ll be from then until Natasha. Sharon after Natasha?”

The others all nodded, “And tomorrow night we’ll sing on the shoals.” Dorothy always was ready with pretty songs that did little to conceal the sharpness of her smiles and the depth of her hatred.

Hours later, Natasha returned, accepting the post from Peggy and drawing herself up to the surface and then her head out of the water to see if she could learn what was happening on the ship. It was silent except for those on watch and she tipped her head back to look at the stars.

Watching as the heavens changed, Natasha slowly let herself drift with the ship beneath the sky. It was some hours after she had arrived, with time before Sharon was expected when a scuffle on the deck caused her to duck into the shadow of the hull. She couldn’t make out the words but something, no someone there was movement still, was tossed overboard and began to sink immediately. Natasha doubled over and dove, feeling breeze catch on her tail as she did so.

The figure was fighting against what ropes held them, sinking quickly with the weight attached to their feet. Natasha pushed herself faster, remembering the cold closing in around her, the burning in her human lungs and the fear that came with knowing she couldn’t reach the air she had so desperately needed.

By the time she had reached them, she had swum past the last of their air feet before.  It wouldn’t be long before the sea crafted them the tail they would have and the gills they would need. Natasha pulled up short as she finally got a clear look at the once human, for there was no skirt and this was no woman.

“Are men so desperate that they’ll throw their own over now?” She asked, reaching out to catch him by his wrists and cut the ropes away from them. With that done she wrapped an arm around his chest and pushed for the upper waters, her body not made for the deep seas.

She felt the moment he came to himself in the immediate fight against her pull and the hand that went for the knife she carried at her side. Natasha snarled and twisted around, catching his wrist before he could take her knife. He fought against her grip but he was still new to the ocean and she had been there for many years. She buffeted him with her tail and he let go, darting back with wide eyes as he looked around.

“What did you do to me?”

“Brought you up to the light depths,” Natasha said. “What is your name?”

“Not that stupid no matter what people say,” he said. “You first.”

“Natasha. Why were you sunk?” She circled him and he twisted his new tail awkwardly as he tried to keep her in sight.

“Because they thought I was a Jonah. With my luck, I probably was,” he said.

“A Jonah? That’s your name?”

“No,” he said, keeping his head down and his hands close. “You’re a siren aren’t you?”

“I’m a castoff like you,” she said. “What is a Jonah?”

“Bad luck. Don’t you know the story of Jonah?”

She shook her head, irritably pushing a lock of her red hair out of her face.

“Jonah brought a bad storm on the sailors he was with so they threw him overboard and the storm broke,” he said.

“But your ship was not in a storm.”

“Becalmed is worse in some ways. At least in a storm you can fight it,” he said.

She nodded, “We’ll have to introduce you to the others. Come, Sharon is coming to meet me soon.” Natasha tipped her head and started for the upper sea, only glancing back once to see that the man was following, awkwardly learning how to use the purple tail he now bore.

“You don’t go much in for clothes do you?” He asked as they neared the shadow of the ship again.

“Why would we? They are hindrances. You would be faster without your shirt,” Natasha said, finally giving up on where her hair was falling more and more from the comb. She reached up and pulled the comb out, tipping her head back to coil her long red hair back up on her head and pin it in place, “Will I know your name before Sharon arrives?”

He waited for a minute and shucked his shirt, lighter scars standing out on his skin before he held out a hand to her, “Clint.”

She eyed his hand for a long moment and then nodded, “It is not often we have men who the sea changes. Will you sing on the rocks with us?”

He looked up at the ship above them and something hardened in his eyes, “As long as I can.”

Natasha smiled and she knew it was an expression as sharp as her knife.


End file.
